


Meltdown

by SilverWolf7



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Crying, Episode Tag: s09e08 The Zygon Inversion, Gen, Meltdown, Non-Verbal Moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 03:14:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5811553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverWolf7/pseuds/SilverWolf7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Going for days with so many different extreme emotional reactions while trying to keep the peace treaty going and with no emotional outlet, the Doctor has a meltdown.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meltdown

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone else notice that the Doctor uses his guitar to regulate his emotions? Apart from that first scene in the medieval arena, he always only plays it in private. When he has access to his guitar, he is a lot calmer. 
> 
> This is the first time I have written a meltdown in any way from the person having the meltdown. It's short, it's choppy and it may not make sense to anyyone. But we know he canonically has meltdowns, as we have seen him have one at the end of Death in Heaven. And he lashes out and punches things and screams/cries afterwards. Which is exactly the same thing I do when I meltdown. Its uncanny how much Twelve is just like me.

His skin felt too small for his body, his head felt full of static electricity making it really hard to think and his emotions were rolling around inside him refusing to be calmed.

He tried taking deep breaths to calm himself down, because he knew it would be bad if he didn’t. It didn’t work.

He tried pacing and shaking it out through his hands, but it didn’t work.

He closed his eyes, tried to imagine he was playing his guitar and strummed the air, wishing he was back in the TARDIS with his real guitar with the actual music able to help calm him, but no, he wasn’t and it didn’t work.

He heard Bonnie ask what was wrong with him, but he couldn’t answer with anything more eloquent than a whine through gritted teeth.

There was no way he was getting rid of this without completely blowing up and he refused to do that in here. He tended to hit whatever was around him. Also, he screamed and cried.

Why did this have to happen at UNIT? 

A picture of a white room with very thick scratched walls came into his mind. It was a cell for aliens that were violent to give them time to calm down, or to stay in while figuring out what to do with them. 

It would be safe. No one would get hurt. He wouldn’t injure himself like the last time this happened when he broke a finger beating the TARDIS console.

He had enough thinking power left to get out his notebook and pencil and write where he was going, shoved it in Osgood’s hand and ran.

The moment he stopped he was going to hit something. He had written in his note for no one to touch him. Touch right then would just set him right off again. He was far too sensitive to touch this time around. 

He really wanted the comfort of a hug right then.

The room was thankfully not in use and he ran into it, slammed close the door which could only be opened from the outside and leaned against it. He had a few blissful seconds of silence before he took a breath, after that he was gone.

He never really understood why he did what he does when he gets like this, but he does know he hates it. He could never control what he did and that scared him. The room he was in being white didn’t help at all. It was far too bright for his overwhelmed senses.

But it was safe. The walls took his punches easily, absorbing the damage he would deal to himself otherwise. The room was soundproof, so if others had come to gawk at him losing it, they wouldn’t hear him screaming out in rage and sadness and pain.

By the time he slid down the wall he was a mess, and it hurt. Tears burned his face, searing his sensitive, overheated skin. It wasn’t even an emotional release like he was really wanting right then. It was his brain trying to get itself back in order.

His sense of time was shot, but he guessed it was around 10 minutes before he was as calm and centred as he was going to get for the near future without rest and time. Well, 10 minutes since he entered the room. 

The door opened and closed, but he didn’t want to open his eyes because they burned. As it was he didn’t have to wait long to figure out who it was. He thought it would be Clara come to check up on him, but it wasn’t. It was Osgood.

“Clara sent me to check up on you. I think she wanted to keep an eye on Bonnie.”

He wasn’t able to answer her yet, as his processing power hasn’t gotten far enough to add in voice input, but he did manage to nod at her.

“Want some company? I won’t touch you.”

He opened his eyes to stare at her. She came and sat next to him and true to her word she didn’t even try to touch him. His shoulders relaxed slightly. He blinked slowly at her. He did enjoy Osgood’s company.

“I’ve been with you all day, Doctor. This had been building since we met in Turmezistan. And then you thought Clara was dead. It’s been one pile of bad things on top of another for you the past few days.”

He shifted so he was leaning against the wall properly and shrugged. His whole life seemed to be made up of nothing but bad things right then. His whole body ached, he was so tired he just wanted sleep, but his emotions were so jumbled and raw it hurt and he knew he’d never be able to get any proper rest.

“It’s okay to let it out, Doctor. No one here will think any less of you. And if they do, then they’re not worth your time anyway.”

His breath hitched and he hid his face in his hands. It was as if her permission and understanding had unclogged some kind of emotional drain inside of him, because it was ridiculous how fast he was getting all teary eyed over this. 

His eyes were still sore from before, and the tears now filling them stung like hell, but when they began to fall, they didn’t burn his skin. Normal tears. He felt like for the first time in this regeneration, he could actually let go of his stupid emotional hang-ups.

These were good tears, cleansing and cool and cathartic. He was also quiet and more in control of himself. It had been a hell of a day, and damn it he deserved to have a good cry. He hadn’t been able to do this for so long. 

He didn’t even try to stop himself for once. It felt good even, which was a nice change from when he cried before in his other incarnations. For the first time since he had been a child, he cried himself out.

By the time he was done, his mind was clearer, though he still wouldn’t be able to stand being touched at all. It took him a few minutes of peaceful quiet for him to be able to unstick his voice, but that wasn’t really a problem. He just had to thank Osgood and he forgot the signs for thank you along with the rest of the signed languages and she had his notebook.

He made a few experimental sounds before he tried making actual words, but all seemed to be working well. He cleared his throat, because it hurt like hell. “Can I have some water?”

No no no, that wasn’t a thank you. He’d have to try again later. Osgood handed him a bottle full of water, and he grabbed at it, slowly letting the cool liquid to put out the fire that was the inside of his throat. 

“Thanks.” Yes! That was right. “For the water and the company. Needed that.”

She smiled at him, before wheezing and taking a puff of her inhaler. He blinked at her again, just as slowly as the first time, this time because he was finding it hard to stay focused on one thing. He was far too tired to keep on going today.

“There isn’t a bed.”

This time she was blinking up at him. “In here? No, this is a safe room. There’s a cell next door with a bed in it. I can leave the door opened and you can rest there if you’re tired.

“Why a cell? Am I being locked up? Did I do something wrong? Did the treaty fail?”

Osgood sighed at his side. “’You didn’t do anything wrong and no, the treaty hasn’t failed. You stopped the war. You look really tired and it is the closest bed. The door won’t be closed, and if it is, it won’t be locked. You can come and go as you please.”

He thought about it for a few seconds, before giving up. He wasn’t going to have to walk far to the next room, cell be damned. It wouldn’t be the first time he slept on a bed in a prison after all. “Fine. Is someone waiting to open the door?”

“Yes, Kate is out there. She doesn’t remember and I told her it is in her statement about the Osgood boxes. She looked it up. She knows it is a consensual mind wipe. You don’t have to worry about that.”

He nodded, because he did worry about that.

He worried more about how well Clara will take it when her mind was wiped of the boxes too. She also couldn’t keep the knowledge that they were both actually empty. Her mind will be wiped upon exiting the room. He and Osgood were the only exceptions to that one. And Bonnie now needed to keep the memory. She’ll just have to learn to live with herself for her actions.

He did it for the most part, so could she. One thing he had faith in was other people and making the right decisions in the end.

A lot fail, but sometimes along comes a person with the strength to go on and change.

A quick gentle poke on his shoulder had him almost jumping out of his skin. He glared at Osgood. “No touch. Can’t stand it right now...”

“You were falling asleep on the floor in here. Do you want a bed or will the floor do?”

He frowned, as he hadn’t even remembered closing his eyes and shrugged. Getting to his feet felt like a monumental task, but he somehow managed that. Walking wasn’t a problem, though his shoulders were a bit stiff as he was holding himself rigid so he could stop himself from accidentally touching things while moving.

The door opened as soon as he was standing up and a frazzled Kate stood there, holding open the door. 

“Kate! Don’t close the door on me, okay?”

“Yes, Doctor.” She stated, rolling her eyes at him and he grinned. 

Things were going to be fine as soon as he had rested and gone home.


End file.
